


Jumping To Conclusions Is Sacrificing Yourself To Embarassment

by bowlingfornerds



Category: The 100
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Classics, F/M, Roommates, Tumblr Prompt, bellamy is the hot guy from upstairs, lifts, mild wick/raven, pre-med, prompt, raven and clarke are besties
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-10
Updated: 2015-07-10
Packaged: 2018-04-08 16:06:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,734
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4311639
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bowlingfornerds/pseuds/bowlingfornerds
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Taken from the tumblr prompt:</p><p>‘We take the same elevator every day and due to a misunderstanding I assumed you didn’t speak english and I’ve been talking to my friend about how hot you are for three weeks and apparently my friend has known from the start but you agreed not to tell me because you both think its hilarious what the fuck’ au</p><p>TLDR; bellarke + lifts</p>
            </blockquote>





	Jumping To Conclusions Is Sacrificing Yourself To Embarassment

**Author's Note:**

> I thought I'd write something quick because my only other work right now is a monster in length - so this is something nicer and shorter. It's not great and I tried to make it funny but it so isn't.
> 
> Also, the title sucks and I might change it, but I'm stuck for them right now.

Clarke was punctual – always on time, always knowing what she was doing. But her roommate, Raven, wasn’t the same. She tended to be an hour late for everything, but Clarke was well past used to it by now. It was because of Raven running late and Clarke having to wait for her that she first stepped into the same lift as the cute guy from the floor above.

Really, she _ran_ into him.

“Oh, shit, I’m so sorry,” she stuttered, hitting the ground floor button even though it was already pushed. Raven was riffling through her bag, trying to find something she probably left at home. The guy – he was exceptionally cute, she realised – glanced between the two of them, mumbling out a response. Clarke formed the idea in her head that he was probably foreign. He didn’t seem like he understood her.

So they stood in the lift awkwardly while Raven swore under her breath, not being able to find her textbook, and the second the doors opened they sprinted out and into the street. By the time they flopped into their seats in Chemistry, they were out of breath and class was just about to start.

“He was hot,” Raven commented. Clarke snorted before nodding.

“Very.”

She ended up realising that the guy had moved in only a few weeks beforehand, and they were on similar schedules. They often went to wash their clothes in the laundry room at the same time, or were leaving the building complex at the same moment.

But Clarke, under the impression that he didn’t speak English, didn’t say a word to him. And him – well he just seemed nervous, if she was honest. But she was used to people feeling that way around her and Raven – they were both loud presences, and he… he just didn’t seem the same. He seemed slightly more toned down.

Every time she got into the lift with him, he’d offer up a small smile and she’d return it. Throughout the ride she’d glance at him from the corner of her eyes – taking in the dark curled hair, the deep brown eyes, the tanned skin, the galaxy of freckles. Every time she saw him she couldn’t help but stare. And, well, he didn’t speak the language.

So when Raven and she walked into the lift, Raven was talking about models.

“Wick says he could be one,” she laughed. Clarke rolled her eyes.

“ _He_ could probably be one,” she replied, nodding to the guy. Raven glanced over and grinned at her roommate.

“You should tell him that,” Raven said. The lift dinged and the doors opened, the girls left first, walking with purpose.

“He doesn’t speak English,” Clarke replied with a shrug. She didn’t catch the curious glance Raven sent back to the man behind them.

It went on like that for a while. They would walk into the lift, Clarke would stare for a little too long, and then tell Raven how attractive he was, in front of him.

“Fucking hell,” she commented on a random Tuesday. “How do they make such hot people?” Raven snorted with laughter. “Seriously, God spent a lot of time on that one.”

A couple of days later, she said, “I’m sure he gets more attractive every time I see him,” as she walked into the lift. Raven laughed and Clarke was so focused on her friend that she didn’t see the smirk from the guy.

On a Saturday, they were crossing paths as she and Raven left the laundry room and he entered.

“Ten out of ten, definitely would fuck,” Clarke commented, glancing back at his ass as she went. Sue her, she hadn’t gotten laid in a while. Raven cackled, pushing her through the hallway. Later, when they returned to pick up their clothes, he was sitting there, reading _The Iliad_ and Clarke raised an eyebrow as she glanced at him, before pulling her clothes from the dryer.

“Hot guy is well-read,” she told Raven. “Twelve out of ten – if I didn’t fuck him it would be a crime.” Raven rolled her eyes in laughter, and Clarke dumped their clothes into the basket she was carrying.

“Why don’t you just tell him that and fuck him?” She asked. “You obviously want to.” Clarke snorted a little.

“Obviously.” They walked towards the door. “But I told you – he’s foreign or something. No English.”

“English isn’t the language of love,” Raven called behind her as she walked ahead. They had always left or turned away before Clarke could see the man grin.

It was a couple of weeks later, where these sort of conversations didn’t cease, when Raven was staying over at Wick’s, and Clarke had to use the lift by herself. She’d done it plenty of times, but it was a Tuesday, so she knew the cute neighbour from upstairs would be there. It would feel strange, not talking about him in his presence.

She stepped into the lift when it opened, checking the number on the side to make sure it was going where she wanted it to, and then leant back against the wall, tipping her head against the cold metal. She lived on level four, and the man on level five, so it hadn’t really gone far before the lift got stuck between levels two and three.

There was a loud clunk, and the lights flickered for a moment before staying on. The man mirrored the panicked expression Clarke was wearing and he rushed forward to press the ground floor button again. Nothing. She watched as he clicked the red emergency one, and the hatch popped open by the door. He pulled out the telephone and Clarke wondered what the hell he was going to do about it – the phone went to the landlord, and she was pretty sure Kane didn’t speak anything but English.

She watched, the phone pressed to his ear.

“Hey?” He said and Clarke’s eyes widened suddenly. “The lift just stopped… while I’m in it.” Clarke drowned out the conversation while her mouthed made an ‘O’ shaped. She watched in wonder, his voice as beautiful as she imagined it to be, but completely and utterly speaking English.

She banged her head against the wall a couple of times, hoping she was hearing him wrong, but when he hung up the phone, he smirked at the sight of her.

“I speak English, by the way,” he told her. Clarke turned, facing the corner and rested her head against the walls.

“Sorry,” she said into the metal. He laughed, and Clarke froze a little at the beautiful sound. _Fuck_ , it was like she was dreaming. But she turned around and he was still there, grinning and she sighed. Her face was undoubtedly red and she winced. “I assumed you were foreign.” He chuckled.

“And why was that, might I ask?” Clarke hid her face in her hands for a moment.

“When we first met, I ran into you and you didn’t reply or seem to understand what I was saying.” He laughed again.

“I think I was in shock, mainly,” he replied with a shrug. “A little like you are now.” Clarke groaned, leaning against the wall again. “I’m Bellamy, by the way.”

“Clarke.” He smiled.

“So Clarke, it seems to be a tradition of you talking about my appearance in this lift, so we could get that started, if you want.” Clarke groaned again, rolling her eyes before slipping her back down the metal and sitting on the floor.

“I’m good, thanks.”

Bellamy sat opposite her, a shit-eating grin still on his face and she knew she’d never live this down.

“What was it? Twelve out of ten? Not fucking me would be a crime?” Clarke brought her hands to her face again, groaning into them.

“Don’t act like you don’t know you’re pretty,” she told him, when she looked up again. He shrugged, still smiling. “Why were you reading _The Iliad_ , anyway?”

“Re-reading,” he corrected. “And I take Classics at TonDC down the road?” She nodded.

“Yeah, I go there, too.” Bellamy paused for a moment.

“If I was reading an English text, why did you think I wouldn’t be able to speak it?” Clarke hesitated, joining the dots together that she hadn’t at the time.

“Shit,” she said. “I never thought of that.” Bellamy laughed again and Clarke smiled a little – it was _kind_ _of_ funny. “God I’m an idiot.” Bellamy just smiled and asked what she was taking at University, trying to direct the topic from her mistake. “Pre-Med,” she replied. Bellamy automatically raised his eyebrows.

“Well, surely they wouldn’t let an idiot learn medicine,” he replied. Clarke shrugged.

“It’s probably happened before. There was that guy who used to steal dead bodies, so he could dissect them and learn about anatomy.” Bellamy grinned.

“Okay, but wasn’t he a pioneer in medicine or something?” Clarke shrugged.

“Or something, probably. I think he did the same to dogs.” Bellamy raised an eyebrow and Clarke openly watched him. He really was attractive. And obviously not an idiot like her. She was so screwed. Then, fate decided that she’d already taken enough of a beating and the lift started to move. It shuddered to life and Clarke stood up as the doors opened on the ground floor.

“It was nice meeting you… again,” she said as they left the building. Bellamy smiled down at her, and the smattering of freckles across his cheeks caught her eye again.

“You too, Clarke.” She turned to walk away but he stopped her. “Wait!” He called. She turned, eyebrows raised. “Your, uh, your roommate Raven told me to give this to you if we ever actually spoke.” He handed over a slip of paper and she looked at him questioningly.

“You’ve spoken to Raven?” He nodded. “And she didn’t tell me that you _speak_ _English_?” He nodded again, grinning. “Why didn’t either of you say?!” Bellamy laughed.

“Because it was hilarious listening to you,” he replied. He gave her a two finger salute before walking off down the road, probably aware that she was watching him. She turned to the paper in her hands, finding his number written there, and while she was totally going to strangle Raven for letting her make an ass of herself, she was also going to thank her – because Clarke had entirely forgotten about asking for his number.

**Author's Note:**

> I told you it's not funny.
> 
> Thanks so much for reading, please check out my other fics, give me kudos, comments and bookmarks. My tumblr is bowlingfornerds if you want to send me prompts - thanks for reading :D


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